Lesson One: Friendship
by Ciel-of-the-Night
Summary: The time has come for Harry to start teaching Lestrange how to brew - for real. Learning wandless magic will have to come first. How will their first lesson start? A short imagined continuation of Murkybluematter's genius third chapter of her fourth story in the Rigel Black saga. All rights go to her - and jk, of course! (There is now a second chapter, taking place after ch. 4.)
1. Chapter 1

Lesson One: Friendship

As attempting to explain to her father how exactly she and Caelum had come to form their somewhat unique friendship - or indeed what it was about him that she found so promising - did not seem like the wisest course of action, she'd had to time it so that her parents were out of the house during their impromptu lesson. Off course, as they were out of the house most regular work days the task did not prove very difficult. Next, since Harry did not want to risk any of her extended family stopping by for an unannounced visit as they were sometimes wont to (to keep her from dying of potion fume-induced suffocation, as Sirius so eloquently put it) she'd set out to do some last-minute interference the day before.

It proved almost ridiculously easy. An innocent hint dropped during one of their training sessions the day before regarding a 'very shy friend' that wanted to learn how to brew the weightless drought because 'he was afraid of flying on a broom and thought controlled flying might be less scary' had an obviously amused Remus casually mentioning that he also happened to have plans that day, coincidentally enough. Harry thought it best not to mention that the friend in question had black hair, not brown. Sirius, being busy preparing for Archie's return (the snakes had all turned mysteriously magenta and the roof of number 12 Grimmauld Place had been made out of crackers the last time she saw it), needed no persuading.

So it was that when the day of their meet arrived Harry set the alarm to wake her an hour earlier than usual. The morning was spent refining the exercises that might help someone come into contact with and, she hoped, harness and control their magic wandlessly. This _did_ prove rather difficult, especially since it had not been something she herself had had to learn (wandless and wordless magic came sometimes disturbingly easy to her). The only thing she knew of that might work that didn't take near endless amounts of time and determination to master was expulsion by way of fear - or, more specifically, expulsion by way of scaring the living daylights out of the Lestrange heir in hopes of kick-starting some sort of magical self-defence mechanism. After all, what she was after wasn't _that_ unusual of a response; a cornered wizard might sometimes be able to _make_ things happen without his wand, if the need was great enough. Self-defense usually proved to be a good enough motivator.

Only, most wizards wouldn't be able to produce more than a levitating charm on their own, and she really wasn't sure that it'd be worth alienating Lestrange with such unreliable tactics their first lesson. Maybe later, she mused, once Caelum had grown to appreciate the validity of her teaching methods (and of her as a teacher). The problem, Harry reflected, was that most wizards didn't have stores of magic deep enough to mold into a shape without a wand. She wondered if maybe envisioning some sort of mold while willing something to happen might help, but put the thought aside for another day since the idea required careful preparation and they wouldn't be able to use it that afternoon in any case. They should probably go get his magical strength tested if Lestrange was truly serious about learning wandless magic, but she didn't really want to take him that far into knockturn if she could help it. In the end they would probably have to, but she kind of wanted to put of bringing him that far into the alleys for as long as possible.

Instead she'd opted to prepare some easy exercises to help gauge how well acquainted Lestrange was with some of the more advanced brewing methods, as well as with wandless and wordless magic in general. Once that was done with she'd had just enough time to grab something quick to eat, which she did, before flooing over to the leaky cauldron to await her first ever student. Not that she'd ever get away with calling him that to his face, she thought, darkly amused.

She sat down to wait.

When five minutes had passed and Caelum still hadn't shown up she decided to entertain herself by speaking with Tom the barkeep, who for once wasn't otherwise occupied and seemed more than happy to catch up over a glass of room-temperated milk. She learned that Mrs. Tom was looking into buying a second home in the countryside, and that country 'get aways' were apparently very _in_ amongst the older generation at the moment (though the richer folk mostly opted to buy said home on the continent, France being especially popular). They had just started in on the subject of AIM vs. Hogwarts and the different kinds of schooling that each school offered, perhaps deliberately, when Harry felt the hairs in the back of her neck stand up. Looking around, it didn't take her long to notice the annoyed-looking figure standing in the doorway. She bade Tom a hasty goodbye and made her way over to the skulking youth, lest he try to run away in the time it would take her to finish of her glas.

When she got close he huffed and turned away. She wouldn't let that stop her though.

"Ready to get started?" She asked once she'd come close enough that she wouldn't have to shout. An answering sneer coupled with a withering look was apparently all the response she was going to get, but at least he was looking at her again.

She grinned. "Scared?" She asked, just to try get a rise out of him. She succeeded.

He turned on her with vicious pride, determined on showing her who it was that should be afraid, but the effect was rather ruined by the big grin that she couldn't possibly keep hidden. He still did his best though, she'd give him that.

"- the last time someone _dared_ to call me a -"

"-and she'll torture you to insanity, and will probably paint a picture with your _impure,_ dirty _muggle_ blood that -"

Okay, she decided. That was well enough now.

"Caelum." She interrupted, somewhat forcefully but not unkindly. She gestured to the pair of elderly wizards sitting close enough to have heard what had been said, looking at her companion with disapproving twin frowns. They weren't the only ones.

Shutting up he glared hatefully at her, as if the horrible things he'd been saying had somehow been her fault and turned to walk away, but she grabbed his arm and drew him aside, into a corner between the bar and floo station. There she studied him, his closed-off expression, hot temper that had seemed to flare even hotter and faster than normal but most of all the lost, kicked-puppy expression hiding somewhere beneath all that offended pride. Something had happened, she realised, and what should have been easy banter between them had set Lestrange of. She felt strangely guilty, but told herself that she couldn't have known because well, she couldn't have, could she?

She could feel her expression softening as she studied him while he stood there, fuming and wounded, possibly alone with struggles that she had a feeling were somehow connected to Bellatrix Lestrange and her less than stellar mothering skills. Gently, she touched his shoulder, not sure how much sympathy he would accept. He stiffened but didn't shrug her off, which she counted it as a victory.

"Hey, I didn't mean it ok?" She said, as gently as if she were talking to a wounded animal. He looked at her then and, studying her, his anger seemed to mellow until only a deep, cold uncertainty remained. A moment later it was gone altogether, replaced by his usual haughty expression.

"Well, are we going or what?" He asked.

Deciding to let the matter drop for the time being she simply nodded once, a new kind of determination settling over her. Right, time to get to work. Hopefully they'd both be so exhausted by the end of it that he'd forget whatever it was that had been bothering him - for a while at least.

"Right, follow me."

She walked over to the floo and, having thrown some of the powder from the jar atop the mantle into the flames, called out, "Godrick's Hollow" and...promptly landed on her face.

She wasn't able to see Lestrange follow, sprawled out on the living room carpet as she was, but she heard the swoosh of the flames coming to life behind her. Even from her somewhat unfortunate position, the sound was like sweet nectar to her ears.


	2. Chapter 2

Lesson Two: Worry not your Lion heart

The next morning Harry woke with a pounding heart, the nagging feeling of having forgotten something of real importance lingering in the back of her mind. The feeling lasted for about four seconds, before the remembered sound of wood splitting sent her mind on a lurching path of acceptance. She sat up, heart still beating like a sledgehammer in her chest, like it was trapped and wanted desperately to find a way out.

As the world righted itself she made herself not only recall what happened but accept it too, as much as her shaken mind was able to. Though all she wanted to do was cower in the ignorance of sleep, Harry forced herself to list the facts: yesterday people had died only inches from where she had been standing. She should be feeling horrible, but somehow she found herself feeling less and less the more awake she became. In truth all she felt was tired, both in body and in mind. Tired, grateful and a distant sort of sad, which probably said more about the kind of person she was than she was willing to admit - it probably didn't bode well for her mental state either.

She should get up, make herself some breakfast and wait for her parents to stumble out of bed, then spend the morning reassuring them that all was good. That she was _fine,_ and definitely wouldn't be taking away any permanent damage from what had happened, so they really didn't need to worry about her. For a moment Harry almost wished that she could tell them the truth; that she'd been through worse.

Off course, she couldn't do that. So instead, like the selfish daughter that she was, she got up, got dressed and headed for the living room hearth. The flames, always so determined to send her sprawling towards her death feet-first, seemed gentler somehow this morning. Not only did she _not_ fall on her way through, she could've sworn she felt them licking at her heels like some evil breed of puppy as she stepped out, their tongues hot and unnaturally dry. The feeling of their raspy warmth on her heels lingered as she dusted herself off (the ashes, at least, were just as indifferent to her plight as usual) which was a bit disconcerting, to say the least.

Magic behaving strangely around her never seemed to be a good sign.

A sense of wrongness stayed with her all the way from the Leaky and through the streets of Diagon Alley, only seeming to lessen as she reached the mouth of another, darker street bearing a very different name. As she stepped into Knockturn the shadows seemed to lengthen, and though she knew it to be an illusion - and an illogical one at that, the sun did not pick it's targets - it made her relax in a way that no other place could quite seem to manage. She didn't feel scared at all after so many years traipsing through the dilapidated alleyways, foolish though it may seem. For one, she quite appreciated a bit of darkness after all that she'd been through - it kept her on her toes, if nothing else. For another, she had Leo to look out for her.

Speaking of the devil...

Harry didn't know for sure how it happened. All she knew was that one moment she was standing at the mouth of the alley, soaking in the calm that just seeing him standing there waiting for her brought and the next she was in his arms. He hugged her close, as if to reassure himself that she really was fine.

Her first instinct was to tense up but when she tried to draw away he wouldn't let her. Eventually, she gave up. Strangely enough she found herself almost enjoying it, though the part of her so accustomed to the ruse cringed away from the contact. What must have been seconds turned into hours, every second more effective than any calming draught she could have brewed back home.

When she thought that enough time had passed she pulled away, gently but firmly. She already felt much more like herself than she had five minutes ago, and made sure to show her appreciation through a smile. He reluctantly let her go even though she could tell that he'd like nothing more than to keep her close, as far away from the dangers of the world as possible. Sadly enough for the both of them, she didn't think that his presence would be enough to keep danger away from her for long.

In her mind Dominion whispered laughingly, _"Isn't that the way you prefer it?"_

" _Off course not,"_ She frowned, not really in the mood for his games.

" _Really. You are sure?"_ He asked with feigned surprise.

She considered the whipping sound she sent his way to be answer enough.

Unperturbed, the jewel's voice echoed laughingly through her mind once more. _"We shall seee."_

Scowling, she didn't realise that she had been acting weirdly until Leo took it upon himself to rouse her from her apparent daze.

"-arry. Harry!"

"What?" She asked, blinking innocently up at him.

He seemed about to say something but faltered, shaking his head and smiling softly, "Nevermind."

Harry shook her head slowly, studying him. He was acting strangely again.

"You can ask, you know. Not that I'm guaranteeing an answer."

She said it teasingly, and judging by the long-suffering way he rolled his eyes towards the sky he took her words for what they were; an apology. But still he did not press her. She sometimes worried that Leo was growing too attached to her - and consequently too forgiving - but right now he was her friend and she could see that he was curious about something that she actually could tell him about, for once. The fact that he didn't ask only served as further proof of his trustworthiness - so she did.

They walked as they talked. Harry told Leo about meeting Cora at the games (he didn't seem surprised), about the men in masks and the bodiless voice that had haunted her dreams that night, familiar and yet not. The things she did not tell him were largely unimportant, at least that's what she told herself. Some secrets weren't hers to keep.

It wasn't until there was a lull in the conversation that she once more began paying closer attention to their surroundings. At first she couldn't place what was missing from the scene, but the closer they got to the tavern the more she noticed that while the unmistakable sounds made by a boisterous crowd were travelling their way, the streets leading up to the Dancing Phoenix were largely deserted. Frowning, she sneaked a look around but what she saw only confirmed her suspicions; they were completely alone. She came to an abrupt halt.

"Leo." She said, careful not to inject too much meaning into her voice.

"Hmm?" He asked, the tune he had been whistling falling to the wayside as he turned his head to look back at her standing there. "Come on, lass. We haven't got all day."

She was about to protest but noticed the way his eyes travelled over the empty streets, vigilant but for the most part unconcerned. He seemed calm, and not in an I'm-faking-it kind of way, so she got herself under control and started up beside him again. Together they walked the last few meters leading up to the Phoenix doors.

She tried not to look too worried.

When Leo got to the door he didn't immediately step through it himself - a first sign that something wasgoing on - instead holding the door open for _her_ , smirkingly waving for her to go through first. As soon as she stepped through she thought she understood why he hadn't wanted to go in first.

The inn was packed, not quite bursting to the seams but close enough that one had to do much maneuvering to be able to get anywhere at all. People of all ages were sitting and standing or just generally taking up space in the usually spacious inn. For the life of her, Harry couldn't understand why. What was so special about today? Had she missed something? Some obvious clue that everyone else seemed to have gotten.

"So, what do you think?" Leo asked once they had managed to find their way to a semi- empty corner wall to the left of the entrance (their usual table might as well have been on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean, that's how unaccessible it was). All the other tables were already taken, but at least here they could talk without having to shout quite so loudly.

"Of what, your party? I must say, I didn't peg you as the type." She sniffed, half in jest but admittedly half curious too.

"What?" He looked confused for a second. " No!" He laughed incredulously and she could feel her own lips twitching in response. "These are your students. I thought you might want to introduce yourself."

The way he said it might have sounded flippant but she knew him well enough by now to see the nervousness hiding beneath the seller's smile. Leo didn't know if he'd done the right thing bringing her here today and it showed. Truth be told, Harry wasn't very sure herself.

"How?" She asked, stalling. "You couldn't have known that I'd come here today."

Eyeing her cautiously he answered, uncommonly quiet, "I heard about what happened, and I had a feeling that you might drop by today. Guess I was right." He shrugged, as if predictive "feelings" were the norm, not the rare exception.

Actually, she didn't actually know what to say to that either. Luckily Leo seemed more than willing to fill the silence.

"I thought you might like something to do today." He eyed her meaningfully, as though in reference to the hug they'd shared not even an hour ago.

She noticed that he didn't really meet her eyes as he said it, which left her with the distinct impression that he was embarrassed. Of what exactly she didn't know - he seemed unusually gifted at understanding what exactly a person needed at any given moment, so really he should have been used to these reactions by now. When he did finally look up she could feel him steeling himself for disappointment.

At first all she did was look at him as her mind raced but then, slowly but surely, she began to smile. Fondly and a little exasperatedly, but above all thankfully. And she really was thankful to have a friend like Leo, for whom friendship seemed almost synonymous with selflessness. She only wished she could return the favour.

One day, she promised herself right then and there, she would.

"You know, I think I would like that." She said finally. "Lead the way, your Majesty."

He scowled at her use of his royal title, just as she had known he would, but she wasn't fooled. As she moved to the front of the room and started to welcome anyone and everyone in sight, and even as the morning dragged closer and closer to noon, she watched him out of the corner of her eye.

He didn't stop smiling once.

\- End of chapter Two -

A/N: Hi, sorry if you're confused. I decided not to continue the first part since Violet updated already and my drabble became moot. But I hope you like this part anyway, sorry there's no Caelum in it. Hope this helps tide you over until her next chapter. Love u, and thanks for the reviews I really appreciate them. Peace, love, Harriet Potter xoxo.

Updated A/N: Hi again, just wanted to tell you that I updated this chapter a bit since I wasn't very pleased with how it came out the first time. To anyone who reviewed the first time: thank you so much, and you will not be forgotten. Hopefully you'll agree that it was for the best after reading the "new" slightly less horrible version. Further explanations at about how I will do this moving forward at the end of the next chapter.


	3. Chapter 3

Lesson Three: Birthday Blues

Leo didn't really see what the big deal was. His employment as King didn't come with many monetary benefits, but he did well enough for himself through other projects he had going on the side and considering he didn't need to pay rent he really wasn't very strapped for funds. All he'd wanted to do was take his stubborn friend shopping for her birthday - in an _apothecary_ no less - but somewhere between making the offer and lunch he'd been gently but firmly rebuffed. Really, Harry could be so stubborn sometimes.

As he made his way home that evening, trying not to look too morose in case any of his subjects happened to be watching, his mind kept going back to that day almost a week ago now. The way Harry's usually cold facade had practically _melted_ in the face of the children made something in his chest positively ache. Off course, her excitement was more likely to do with the fact that she finally had a quote unquote willing audience of people that actually seemed to want to learn something about her much-valued craft.

Leo appreciated potions more than most folk but the way his Harry treated them, like they were some sort of miracle she'd never tire of watching really was a bit too much. Though he supposed that that was part of her charm.

END of chapter Three -

A/N: Yeah, as you can see this one isn't really a chapter at all. I wrote it between chapter 4 and 5 of Violet's "The Futile Facade" as a continuation of the last chapter I posted but then realised (as I usually do) that I hated everything I had written in the previous chapters as well as in this one so I didn't end up finishing or posting it. I thought of erasing this whole thing but then figured that I might as well keep it because even though it sucks **** it must be slightly better than nothing. I hope. Anyway, next "chapter" hopefully coming relatively soon, though it'll depend a lot on when Violet updates and on my own mood (a.k.a. how much I hate my writing at any given time lol). I promise the next one will be longer at least.

Xo.

Ps: The people she teaches are off all ages in the last chapter bc that's how I imagined them before reading chapter 5. In this one they are children bc the cannon says so.


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